In Dark Waters (10 page)

By the time Mitch pulled up in front of Kelsey's house, it was past nine o'clock in the evening. The house was dark except for a light in the kitchen. He saw Kelsey's slim figure pass in front of a window. Good thing she was still up.

A dull ache had settled around his temples, and he itched to crawl into bed. He'd not had seven straight hours of sleep in two weeks.

The search for Chris had yielded nothing. The guy had simply vanished. Mitch had called Stu and informed him. The old man sounded fragile and worried, and spent several hours calling Chris's friends and family. No one had seen any sign of him. It was as if the man had fallen off the face of the earth.

Mitch strode up to the Warren house. The sound of music drifted out to greet him. Jazz. He never figured Kelsey for a jazz enthusiast. She struck him as the pop/rock type.

He knocked on the door. At first, he didn't hear footsteps and thought perhaps she hadn't heard him over the music. He knocked again.

"I heard you," she shouted over the music. "I'm coming." She turned the music down.

Kelsey opened the door. She was wearing a thick terry cloth robe and her hair was damp as if she'd just washed it. Her face was cleanly scrubbed. He held his breath for a moment, unable to find his voice.

"Kinda late, isn't it, Sheriff?" Kelsey said. Her voice was smoky, seductive and he knew he could get lost in the sound of it.

"I have news."

She nodded, the light in her eyes dying. "I didn't think that I would hear from you so soon." She stepped back and held out her arm. "Come on in."

He was struck by two things. First, the hallway was completely clean. Not only had the papers been cleaned out, but the floor had been swept. Without the clutter, the entryway was brighter, more inviting. Second was the smell of tomatoes, basil and garlic drifting from the kitchen. He remembered then that he hadn't eaten since lunch.

"You've been busy."

"Your nephews were a big help. Thanks for sending them." She closed the door behind him.

Standing next to him in her bare feet, she barely reached his shoulder. Once she'd fit nicely in the crook of his arm. "They didn't give you any trouble, did they?"

"They were perfect gentlemen." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A small gold hoop earring glistened from her small earlobe. "Rick told me he was on probation."

Mitch grunted. "He'll be lucky if he works off his indenture before he hits thirty."

She chuckled. "Give the kid a break. Weren't you young and stupid once?"

He didn't dare touch that one. "Look, I don't want to take up a lot of your time. I came to give you the preliminary results."

She moistened her lips. "Are you hungry?"

The question caught him off guard, but he recovered. She wasn't ready to hear what he had to say yet. "Starving."

"Come on back to the kitchen. My marinara is already and the pasta is cooked."

He followed her down the wide hallway to the kitchen. The room was large with an overhead fluorescent light that shone down on a pink and gray Formica floor. Along the north wall was an old white stove, a wide porcelain sink with a drying rack next to it, and a narrow counter. To his right was a refrigerator that had to be fifty years old.

A gray table trimmed in dull chrome and surrounded by four matching chairs was piled high with boxes of papers, as were the far corners of the kitchen.

"Smells good." He never figured her for a cook.

There were two pots on the stove—one for sauce and one with cooked pasta glistening with butter. "I learned to cook a few dishes when I was in Italy. I got tired of eating in restaurants."

She found two bowls from the cupboard, washed them and then placed a healthy serving of pasta in each. She ladled marinara on each and grated fresh cheese and pepper on top. She handed him the bowl. "Wine?"

"Water's good."

"Sure." She poured one glass of ice water and one red wine. "Let's go sit on the back porch and eat. Then we can talk. I haven't had a chance to clean this room yet and I get antsy around the clutter."

"Lead the way." He followed her outside and they both sat on the back step. The night was cool and the air clean. Suddenly, he could feel the tension draining from his back. He took a bite of pasta and, to his surprise, discovered it was good.

They ate in silence for several minutes, each lost in his own thoughts. Mitch liked sitting beside her. He liked having her close. The realization nearly made him laugh. What was it about him and difficult women? After he and his ex had broken up for good, he'd sworn no more complications. And here he was. But it really wasn't fair to compare Kelsey and Alexa. Alexa was a clinger. Whether it was city life, her friends or him, she always needed someone. Kelsey had her quirks, but she could stand on her own two feet.

Kelsey set her fork down. She held the earthenware bowl in her hands, staring ahead into the dark. "The body was Donna, wasn't it?" He set his bowl down. "Yes." She shoved out a sigh. "It's not like I didn't know it anyway."

It was one thing to have a gut feeling. Another to have facts. "Right."

"How did she die?"

He hesitated. "We don't have the full report yet."

"But you have a theory." He sighed. "She was shot in the chest." She squeezed her eyes closed. "She was murdered?"

"Yes." He wanted to take her in his arms. She looked so alone and fragile at this moment. "Is there anyone I can call for you—someone you can stay with?" She straightened her shoulders. "No, I'm good."

"Kelsey, you really shouldn't be alone." She stood abruptly. "Thanks for everything." He rose immediately. "Where are you going?"

She tapped her fingertips against her thigh. "I don't know. I've just got to do something."

He laid his hands on her shoulders. "You shouldn't be alone."

She glanced up at him, her eyes now watery pools. She was struggling for control. "I've been on my own most of my life. I don't need anyone, Sheriff."

He could feel the tension in her body under his fingertips. "Let me call Stu. Maybe you can spend the night with him, he could use the company. Chris is missing."

"Missing?"

"He says Chris had taken off before but he's worried."

For an instant, her gaze shifted and he thought she'd change her mind and stay with Stu. "I'll give him a call. He's got enough on his plate. I'll get through this alone."

He wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her close and protect her from the pain. And for a moment, she looked up at him, her body leaning in toward him just a fraction, as if she wanted to be held.

His hands slid down to her arms with the idea of holding her, if only for a moment. She stiffened, but didn't pull away.

He leaned his head forward and touched his lips to hers. He'd forgotten how good she tasted, how much he'd enjoyed the feel of her body against his.

He thought she'd let him draw her into his embrace and that the kiss would deepen. He wanted that.

But she pulled away and stepped back. She dragged her hand through her hair. "I'm tired."

She'd not allow him to comfort her no matter how much he wanted to take her misery away. His heart ached for her.

"Eventually, this is something you're going to have to work through alone. But for tonight, let me take you to Stu's."

"No."

Before he could argue, she disappeared into the house. He heard her throw the lock on the door.

As he stared at the closed back door, Mitch jabbed his fingers. He wanted to pound on the door and demand that she go to Stu's. He marched up to the door, raised his fist and then hesitated. He spread his flat palm against the door and pulled in a deep breath.

What was he doing?

She was a big girl. They'd had a past, but neither owed the other anything. So why did he feel so helpless?

"Color me one big, damn fool."

It was seven o'clock in the morning when Kelsey woke. She'd spent a long, restless night in her old bed. She tossed and turned and dreamed of Donna during a time when things had been pretty good. They'd been in California and it had been her eighth birthday. There'd been no friends to share the day with, but Donna had taken Kelsey to Disneyland. The day had been magical. They'd laughed and Kelsey had eaten junk food until she'd had a bellyache. She'd climbed into bed that night still wearing her new Mickey Mouse T-shirt, believing that Donna had finally gotten her act together.

The next day, Donna was arrested for credit card fraud. She'd financed their outing with a card she'd stolen from some lady in Fresno. Donna made bail and they skipped town two days later.

Despite all her screwups Kelsey continued to believe that somehow, someday, Donna would get her act together.

Donna was dead.

Whatever doubts she'd nurtured all these years were banished by Mitch's announcement last night. Donna would never make things right between them.

She was alone.

Kelsey rubbed her temple, trying to ease the dull ache. She resisted the urge to pull the covers over her head and go back to sleep. She got out of bed, dressed and pulled back her hair. She did what she always did when she felt as if she could jump out of her skin. She worked.

Five hours later, she had tackled another room— the dining room. Most of the clutter had been newspapers and it had been easy to toss them. She'd stacked them on the front porch with a note for Rick and Jeff to haul them off.

Her stomach grumbled and she realized she still hadn't eaten. There were more rooms to be done, but she needed to take a break. She strode into the kitchen to the coffeemaker and made a strong pot. But as the machine hissed and steamed and she stared at the clutter in the room, she knew she had to get out of this house or she'd go nuts.

She couldn't breathe here.

Turning the pot off, she went upstairs, showered and dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. After slipping on her clogs, she grabbed her keys and purse and headed to her car. She started the Jeep up and began driving. Before she knew it, she was parking in the scuba center's lot. Kelsey shut off the car and went inside.

The bells on the front door jingled as she entered. The shop had once been a pizza place years ago when Stu had purchased it. Now, new wet suits, flippers and masks hung where there'd been pictures of Italy; air tanks rested where the ovens had been; and a long glass display case stood where there'd been booths.

The place was quiet and there was no sign of people. "Stu?"

He poked his head out of the back room. The instant he saw her, he grinned, went to her and hugged her. "How you doing, Kelsey?"

He was dressed in khakis and a black collared shirt with a red scuba center logo embroidered on the right breast pocket. He'd showered and combed back his gray hair. He smelled of chlorine and aftershave, as he always had. His warm embrace nearly brought her to tears.

She walked down the narrow hallway and hugged him. "I'm good."

"You sure?"

She sniffed and smiled. "Good to go." Needing to distance herself from the emotion, she pulled back and glanced around the shop. "Any word on Chris?"

His smile faded. His worry was evident. "No."

She scrambled for words of comfort. She glanced into the display case at a handful of the latest dive computers. "Any idea where Chris could be?"

He sighed. "I wish I knew. The police found his car, but there is no sign of him."

She frowned. "You know how he can just stop what he's doing and take off." He'd written about Chris's excursions often in his letters.

"The only place he went was Atlantic City. But his car was found on the
southbound
side of 81."

"He should have been on the north side."

"Exactly."

"How long has it been?"

"He left town two days ago. They found the car yesterday."

Kelsey knew how lame words of comfort could sound. And still she heard herself saying, "Hang in there. He's tough. I bet he turns up soon."

The front bells of the shop rang. Stu winked at her. "Be right back."

His gait was still stiff as he moved down the hallway to the front of the store. She'd remembered what Mitch had said about the motorist who'd nearly run him over. A chill snaked down her spine. It would have broken her heart to lose Stu.

Kelsey could hear a woman's voice up front but couldn't place it. She walked to the front of the hallway to glanced out into the store.

The woman who stood looking down at the display case was dressed for tennis, but everything about her spoke of money—her French manicured fingers, diamond bracelet, crisp white Polo shirt and pleated white tennis skirt. Her black hair was cut short, the edges spiked in a fashionable style.

Mrs. Boyd Randall. Sylvia. Kelsey had never met the woman, but knew instantly who she was. She'd seen her picture in the local paper enough times when she lived in Grant's Forge.

Stu greeted Mrs. Randall.

She grinned. "Boyd's birthday is coming up and I wanted to get him something special. He's planning a dive trip to Cancun in September and I thought it would be nice if I could update some of his equipment. I spoke to Chris about this last week and he was going to order a couple of wristwatch computers for me to look at."

Stu nodded. "He did. They arrived yesterday."

"Is Chris here?" she said. "Since I started the process with him, it makes sense to finish it with him."

Stu opened the case and lined the three compact dive computers on the glass top. "Chris is in Richmond visiting his family now."

Mrs. Randall looked disappointed. "Which one of these do you recommend?"

Kelsey stayed back, pretending to study a pair of split fins hanging on the wall. Stu launched into a discussion about the pros and cons of each computer.

"Have you used any of them?" Mrs. Randall asked.

Stu shook his head. "Nope, I haven't used any of them. I have a tendency to stick with what I know."

"That's what I like about Chris. He always tries out the latest equipment." Mrs. Randall's voice was soft, but there was no missing the irritation.

Stu glanced toward Kelsey. "I bet I know someone who has used these computers. Hey, Kelsey, would you come over here for a moment?"